


The Hooker with the Bad Reputation

by domo_in_a_lunch_box



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, hooker!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domo_in_a_lunch_box/pseuds/domo_in_a_lunch_box
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite being of legal age, Scott drags Stiles to a sleezy strip club for his 18th birthday 4 towns away so that the sheriff won't hear about it. Stiles wanders the town when Scott ditches him to get laid and runs into one of the most notorious Alpha Hookers of "The Pack". Events become increasingly unexpected.</p><p>All wearwolves (Derek's pack after season 1) are hookers, Allison and Lydia are strippers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hooker with the Bad Reputation

Stiles walks along the dark alleyway, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, grumbling curses at Scott for ditching him in a creepy neighborhood that he had never been in before tonight.  _Seriously, if I ever get out of here alive, I am going to KILL him._ Stiles thought.  To make things worse, there was no cell signal at all.  Scott had the brilliant idea to take him out to a strip club on his 18th birthday.  The reason that Scott dragged him all the way out here was because Stiles’ father was the sheriff and he didn’t think the sheriff would approve of his son visiting a strip club even though it was perfectly legal to.  But then Scott decides to let one of the strippers, named the Huntress, take him home, leaving Stiles to fend for himself.  He had had a similar offer from the Huntress’ friend, a blonde bombshell named Martini, but he didn’t want his first time to be with some stripper who slept with anyone who asked the right way.  And he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to spend his first time with a girl. Stiles isn’t about to say he’s on one team or the other, but since he hasn’t had any experience in the field of love, he doesn’t rule it out.

The alleyway seemed to get darker as he walked and cursed more under his breath.  It also got a lot colder, he could now see his breath in front of him. He reached up to pull up his hoodie to try and keep his ears warm. He looked up and saw a figure propped against the wall a little ways down the alley. _Oh. Shit._ Stiles faltered on his steps. He spotted an opening in the wall between him and the figure. _If I can just get to there unnoticed…_ He started to creep to the side of the alley when the figure pushed off the wall and started to walk towards him. Stiles didn’t stop to think, he just walked a little faster, and hoped to turn into the side alley before the man reached him.  He reached it in time, ducking around the corner, only to realize that he hadn’t taken into account that it could be a dead end.  He started to panic slightly, hearing the figure turn into the alleyway.  Stiles tried to formulate a plan, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him.  The steps got closer, but stopped right behind him.  He swore he could feel the faint breath of the figure on the back of his neck. When he felt a hand brush over his upper arm, he finally did something. He swung around quickly, arm raised for a punch in hopes of catching the stranger off guard.  Next thing he knew, his body was sandwiched between the stranger’s broad body and the wall, his arm that he raised for the punch was pinned to the wall beside his head, the stranger’s other hand was resting lightly on his hip.

“Get off of-” Stiles lost track of his words when the stranger ducked his head down, pushing the hoodie back a little to press his nose into the soft spot right below his ear.

“Be quiet and follow my lead. It’s dangerous for someone like you to be wandering these alleyways.”

“What the hell do you think-” The stranger nipped at the sensitive skin, cutting Stiles off.

“I’ll explain later. Right now it isn’t safe for you. Trust me.”

Stiles lowered his voice. “Trust you!? You’re the reason I tried coming into this alley.” Despite his reluctance of his situation, Stiles slid his free hand up the stranger’s arm, resting it on his shoulder. He trusted him enough to make it look like he wanted it, considering he hasn’t violated him _yet_.

“And I’m the reason a lesser person hasn’t had their way with you right now.”

Stiles tried to formulate a proper response. “Wha-wait…I…what?”

“Look,” The stranger pulled back, pressing their foreheads together and looking into Stiles’ eyes. “As strange as it sounds, you smell like someone of law enforcement, of an associate with someone of law enforcement.  You’re lucky I found you instead of someone else. There are people around here that would enjoy nothing more than to forcefully have their way with you because someone you’re close to is in law enforcement.”

“What the hell are you-” He was cut off by a classic wolf-whistle.

“Looky here! The Lone Wolf has got himself a fine piece of meat!” The “Lone Wolf” growled in response and turned his head to glare at the two approaching figures. Stiles could swear he saw red in his eyes. Stiles moved his head slightly to see the two figures. The shorter one spoke again. “You wouldn’t mind sharing would you, I’ve wanted a taste of that smell for ages.”

“Jackson,” The taller figure with light curly hair spoke softly, “we should leave him alone…remember what happened to Erica after she interrupted him?”

“Isaac, I swear your nose is broken. How can you not want a piece of him?” Jackson continued to stalk forward, Isaac rooting himself firmly at the entrance of the dead end. Wolf, as Stiles has decided to call him, let go of Stiles and turned to face Jackson. “Oh! Are you actually going to share?”

“No. But I love the look on your face when I scare you shitless.” Jackson stopped walking forward. “You should listen to Isaac and learn from what Erica did.” He growled out. Stiles could see his head dip slightly and the muscles of his back ripple in movement.  In the next moment, he saw Jackson pale, but hold his ground.

“Ha-That doesn’t scare me anymore.” His voice was shaking and he stumbled over his words.

“Go back to the Den.” Jackson didn’t move. “Go!” Wolf let out a growl that sent Jackson scampering back to Isaac who was already edging his way out of sight down where Stiles had come from. Wolf took a moment after the two had gone to stretch his neck and shoulders before turning around to face Stiles once more.

“Now do you believe me about what others would have done to you already?”

Stiles didn’t know how to respond. He was pretty sure that he was now dealing with members of “The Pack”, a notorious band of hookers that were all rumored to be werewolves.  He heard about them from his dad many times, since his dad was the one to deal with them anytime they decided to test their luck around Beacon Hills. After the display he just saw between Wolf and Jackson, he was pretty sure the were-thing was true.  Anxiety struck him.

“I…uh…” He couldn’t quite figure out what to say, his words piling up in his mouth, but none willing to come out.

Wolf took a step forward. “I am going to take a guess that you know who we are.”

“…y-yeah…” Stiles eventually stuttered.

He leaned forward to whisper into Stiles ear. “Then you know by now that your only way out of this is to trust me.”

“What is with this whispering closely to my person?”

“I bet you also know what we are.” Bingo.

“Let me guess, super hearing or something.”

“Thing one and thing two are still close enough to hear above a whisper.”

“Why protect me?” Stiles finally pried out of himself.

Wolf turned his head to the side, looking at nothing in particular, as if he is searching for a sound or something. “It isn’t safe to talk, or be out here.  I only have effect on my primes, another micro-pack is lurking about in the area; I have no effect on them. Come with me.”

Without waiting for a response, He loops his hand into one of the belt loops of Stiles’ pants and tugged him forward.  Stiles reluctantly gave up on any struggle attempt. Strangely, he did trust the creepy stranger.  He eeped when Wolf moved his hand from his belt loop to trail it along the edge of his jeans along his back to rest his hand firmly on the other hip, guiding him forward.  He guided Stiles out of the alleyway away from where he had originally come.  A few ways down, Wolf guided him into another dead end to the left and guided him into one of the doors lining it.  Inside, he was led into a dingy elevator that Stiles questioned whether or not it should even be used.  Nervous and continually questioning his own sanity, Stiles was beginning to get a little twitchy. His one hand started making a silent snapping motion. The tighter grip on his hip made him think that Wolf noticed the twitching, but it didn’t make him stop. He refused to turn around and look at the man, he just couldn’t.  The elevator dinged and he was guided out into a hallway that didn’t look like it belonged to the same building as the elevator.  It made Stiles’ step falter.  It was bright, colorful and not at all threatening.  He heard Wolf chuckle at the misstep as he guided him down the doors.

“I assure you that the front of the building looks like it should match this hallway. I think I’m the only person in the building that uses that elevator.”

“I don’t think that anyone should be using that elevator.” Stiles snapped back.

Wolf stopped guiding him along and removed his hand from Stiles’ hip to fish out keys from his pocket.  Stiles looked around, distracted by the odd change of scenery when a hand pulled him forward and into the room by the pocket of his hoodie.  He was even more bewildered by the apartment in front of him. Wolf had dropped the keys into a bowl that sat on an end table near the door and stripped off his leather jacket, dropping it on the couch before making his way into the kitchen. The apartment looked like some sort of influential businessman lived here, not a nicknamed member of The Pack. There were fine leather couches, a flat screen tv and an impeccable kitchen just to start.

“Have a seat.” Wolf was back in front of him, holding out a water bottle to him.

He repeated his question from earlier.  “Why are you helping me?”

Wolf dropped his arm with a sigh and walked over to the couch and plopped down, placing the previously offered bottle on the table, opening the other one in his possession and taking a sip.

“In short, I owe a lot to the people of the law.  I’m one of the few who wretch at the idea of pissing them off. You are also young and a virgin, so that’s three strikes that send me away."

That snapped Stiles out of his building-not-matching trance. “Ok, one, how the hell, do you know I’m a virgin!?”

“Werewolf remember?” He pointed at himself. “It rolled off you in waves when I pinned you to the wall.”

“I’m not even going to begin to question that right now and two, why didn’t you just leave me if I was three strikes?”

“Because I knew that Jackson had caught your scent to and those are the three “Go” lights for him. Trust me, he may be part of my micro-pack but I would never trust him with my own life. He is just, not my choice.”

Stiles paused and decided to sit down.  Once settled, he spoke again. “You keep saying micro-packs.” He reached for the untouched water. “What does that mean?”  Taking a sip, he started to study Wolf, this being the first time in suitable light to really look at him.

“Well, you know that the entire operation is called The Pack, right?”

Stiles made a noise in agreement; his main focus was on the stunning features of the man in front of him, but a thought brought him back. “But wait, aren’t werewolves supposed to travel in small packs?”

“Yeah. That’s why we’ve been referring to the proper packs as micro-packs if they are associated with The Pack.”

Stiles let out a giggle. “There was way too much “pack” in that sentence.”

For the first time that night, Wolf looked up and connected his eyes with Stiles, it was also the first night that he could see his eyes properly.  Stiles let out a small gasp at the sight of the soft, but hardened hazel eyes in front of him.  He could see Wolf smile too, but it didn’t quite seem to fully reach his eyes.

“What’s your name?” Wolf asked softly.

“Oh! I’m Stiles.” Wolf raised an eyebrow at the name, a smirk on his lips. “What? Don’t make fun of me.” He playfully smacked at Wolf’s arm. “Right now it’s better than the name I’ve given you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Wolf. I deemed it fitting after Jackson called you the Lone Wolf and I had no idea what to refer to you as besides tall, dark, and creepy.”

Wolf let out a slight chuckle. “My name is actually Derek. Lone Wolf is my street name. I had it before the responsibility fell to me to control the little rats.”

“So I’m assuming that wolf terms apply and you’re something like an alpha?”

“You’re smarter than you seem.” He took another sip of water before Stiles smacked him again.  “Ok, you don’t look very smart when you and your triple threat smell was waltzing around Pack  hunting grounds! Honestly, what the hell are you doing around here anyway? You don’t smell like anyone I’ve ever met and I know all the locals.”

Stiles sat back and glared at the coffee table, playing with the water bottle label in his hands.  “My asshole of a friend dragged me out here to go to a strip club and then abandoned me to get some ass.”

“Can I ask why he dragged you out to _here_ of all places?”

“The law enforcement person you smelled on me? My dad’s the sheriff of the town we live in and my friend wasn’t comfortable going to a strip club near our town, god-forbid my dad found out.” He made a dramatic gesture with his hands to emphasize the ridiculousness of his friend’s actions.

“So I take it you’re underage? That would be strike four.”

“That’s just it! I turned 18 today! It’s completely legal! Screw my dad if he won’t let me be a hormonal teenager.” He huffed. “And what happens? He ditches me to fuck a stripper and I end up in the apartment of an alpha of The Pack. How am I being calm about this?” He glanced up at Derek, half asking him, half asking himself.

“You trust me.”

“But why do I trust you? You’re a top rung member of a notoriously bad hooker group!”

“I never wanted any part of this, hence my actions tonight and the fact that you are here and not at the Den having potentially cruel things done to you.”

Stiles breathes in deep, trying to calm his fraying nerves. Part of him wanted to ask but part of him didn’t want to know. He thought for a moment, taking in a deep breath to try and settle his nerves. He was momentarily startled by the scent of the air. It had changed, it was now appealing; it felt like it was beckoning but he didn’t know to where. He shook his head to clear it and formulated a question.

“If you didn’t want to be a part of it, why are you an alpha? Doesn’t the previous alpha have to die for another one to take power?”

Derek leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head. Stiles could no longer see his eyes.  “It’s not an encounter I’m proud of, and I never wanted to do it, but no one else would have had any sanity as the alpha. I had to take control before someone else did and before things spiraled out of control."

“So…you did kill someone.” Stiles was sort of surprised that the concept of the man in front of him killing someone didn’t disturb him. Talk about a morbid curiosity.

“My uncle. In the end, death by my hand was the nicest thing to do to him.  He went crazy power hungry after the rest of my family was killed, then killed my older sister in order to become alpha.” Stiles leaned towards Derek slightly and placed a hand on his back in an attempt at comfort. Derek huffed in some sort of amusement. “Now I’m the one who’s questioning who I’m trusting. I barely know you and I’m telling you everything about my family.” Derek looked back at Stiles’ face and Stiles could see the pain settled deep in his eyes. Stiles retracted his hand.

“It doesn’t really compare on much of a similar scale, but I lost my mom when I was a kid.  The way my family was, with just me, my mom, and my dad, no extended family, I lost a third of everything I knew.” Something was now drawing Stiles to get closer to the werewolf, an urge to curl up into his side and hug him close, anything to try and ease the pain settled deep in his eyes.

Silence settled between them, a strangely comfortable and knowing silence. Stiles kept searching Derek’s eyes for something hidden, Derek found himself ensnared by Stiles’ innocently big eyes. Without realizing it, a tear slipped from Stiles’ eye as he blinked. It startled him, making him look away.  He went to wipe it away but Derek beat him to it; hand gently caressing the side of his neck while his thumb ghosted over his cheek. Stiles felt himself lean into the touch as he glanced down at his hands in his lap, not quite ready to look Derek in the eye again.  Eventually, he flicked his gaze back up to the alpha’s, only to find that Derek has inched his face closer. He felt drawn in again, leaning forward ever so slightly.

“Derek-” He breathed out softly.

“I think I know why I was so insistent on protecting you.”  Stiles could feel Derek’s breath ghost over his lips.

“And why is that?”  He felt their foreheads brush gently.

“Ever heard of mates?”

“How werewolves find a single mate and stay with them for life?”

“Yeah.” He looked straight into Stiles’ eyes. “I think I found mine.”

Before Stiles could say anything in return, Derek leaned in the rest of the way and gently placed a kiss on Stiles’ lips.  It was chaste.  When Derek went to pull away, Stiles greedily chased his lips, bringing his hand up to grip the collar of Derek’s shirt. That one response opened the flood gates and Stiles found himself in Derek’s lap with one hand on Derek’s chest and another in his hair. Derek’s hands had found themselves on Stiles, one on his lower back and one on his upper thigh, just below his butt. The higher of the two hands wormed its way under both Stiles shirt and sweatshirt. Stiles pushed his body closer to Derek’s at the contact.

A thought snapped in Stiles’ mind. He broke the kiss in a huff. “Wait, wait, wait, wait. If you found your mate, if this is a legit thing,” he motioned between the two of them, “what does this mean for your hooker-thing and pack stuff?”

“I am relieved of all of my Pack responsibilities.” Derek tried to continue the kiss.

Stiles denied him. “But what about your pack…micro-pack thing? You control them. What happens to the pawns if the king no longer plays the game?”

“They get reconnected to another alpha.”

“And how the hell do they do that without killing you?”

Derek sighed in defeat and dropped his head onto Stiles’ chest, realizing that their kissing would not continue until Stiles’ mind was satisfied. “It involves druids, a thousand year old tree and the ritual sacrifice of a virgin.”

“Then please have sex with me right now because there is no way I am letting you sacrifice me!”

Derek threw his head back in laughter. “There is no ritual sacrifice. I just felt like messing with you.” Stiles punched him playfully on the arm. “I might take you up on that sex offer though.”

Before Stiles realized what was going on, Derek had him pinned to the sofa; hands pinned above his head with one hand, a body settling itself between his legs, and a hand running down his thigh, pulling his leg up against Derek’s body. Stiles let out a gasp once his brain processed the actions. Derek dipped his head down and licked up Stiles’ neck, feeling his pulse, and eliciting a moan from the body below him. Stiles was able to pull one of his hands free from Derek’s grip. He used it to grab onto Derek’s hair, pull him from his neck and continue their previously interrupted kiss. Stiles could feel the grip on his thigh tighten as the hard body above him ground his hips down onto him. He felt slight claws extend from Derek’s fingertips, but not pierce skin.

The buzzing of his phone in Stiles’ back pants pocket broke everything. Stiles jumped at the unexpected noise and feeling and head-butted Derek in his surprise. Derek sat back on his heals, holding his wounded head. Stiles’ grabbed his head and let out a crying groan of anger at his phone. He finally pulled out the cursed thing from his pocket to see that his friend apparently seemed to care about his whereabouts.

He glanced at Derek before reluctantly answering the phone. He didn’t even get a hello in before Scott started talking a mile a minute.

“ _Dude, where are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone? I thought you went with Martini._ ”

“Scott, you suck. You just totally cock-blocked me you asshole.”

“ _Wait, what? I thought you weren’t with Martini?_ ”

“Why would I have to be with a stripper to get laid?”

“ _Because she is the stripper you left with to get laid?_ ”

Derek let out a snort-chuckle at the conversation. “Oh shut up you.” Stiles said to Derek as he swatted his chest absentmindedly.

“ _Shut up? I’m trying to figure out what is going on!_ ”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you.” Stiles clarified. “I was talking to the Pack alpha who is sitting between my legs right now.”

“ _Whooooooaaaa. When you said pack alpha, did you mean an alpha from_ the Pack _? What are you doing with a hooker of that reputation!?_ ”

“Hey, how does going home with a random stripper with no reputation make you any better?”

“ _Allison is only stripping because she needs the money for school and she doesn’t go home with everyone.  I was special._ ”

“Oh, so you are on a first name basis with a stripper you just met and ditched me for on my birthday.”

“ _Hey, you ditched me too! Where are you? Your dad is going to kill me if I don’t come back with you._ ”

“It’s your fault for hauling me out here because you didn’t want my dad to know that two teenage boys of legal age went to a strip club.”

“ _Your dad scares me, first off. Second, he has a gun. Third, all of the towns surrounding Beacon Hills knows who you are and that your dad is the sheriff of Beacon Hills and they call him if they see you doing anything suspicious!_ ”

“Scott. You. Are. An. Idiot. I don’t care if my dad finds out I went to a strip club. I’m legal now! And anyway, my dad would never have found out that we went to a strip club if we didn’t go to one that was in the center of the Pack’s hunting grounds!”

Derek, becoming impatient, grabbed the phone from Stiles. “Scott right? Here’s the deal. Go home, I’ve got Stiles all taken care of. I’ll get him back to you and the sheriff as intact as I found him. Well, maybe minus a sexual status.”

“Derek!” Stiles tried to swipe the phone back. Derek held it out of reach.

Derek didn’t wait to hear Scott’s reply before he ended the call and threw the phone onto the adjacent couch. “Now where were we?”


End file.
